Of Closets and Cataclysms
by Fourth Time's the Charm
Summary: With judgemental parents, a girl that might be carrying his baby, and a crush on one half of McKinley's homo power couple, Glee Club is the least of Quinton Fabray's worries. boy!Faberry, season 1
1. Pilot

_Summary_: With judgemental parents, a girl that might be carrying his baby, and a crush on one half of McKinley's homo power couple, Glee Club is the least of Quinton Fabray's worries. boy!Faberry, season 1

_Warnings_: sexual content, alcohol/drug use, pregnancy, het relationships, gay/lesbian relationships, homophobia, minor racism, boy!Quinn, boy!Rachel, girl!Puck, mentions of girl!Mike

_Names_: boy!Quinn = Quinton Fabray, boy!Rachel = Ryan Berry, girl!Puck = Naomi Puckerman, girl!Jesse = Jessica st. James, girl!Mike = Mika Chang

_Pairings_: Quinton/Ryan, Quinton/Naomi, Naomi/Finn, Ryan/Jessica, Santana/Brittany, Kurt/Ryan friendship

* * *

><p>"I did something stupid," Naomi announced as she opened with door for Quinton. Quinton raised an eyebrow, confused by this greeting and what had been said. Naomi Puckerman was the epitome of the word 'bad-girl' with her mischievous smile, bad reputation, scandalous clothes, and Mohawk. Quinton and Naomi were complete opposites in every way and their friendship was a mystery.<p>

"Did you pierce your other nipple?" he asked in a deadpan.

"I joined Glee Club," she muttered. "I was in the auditorium the other day and saw them performing. Finn was a member, and I've been trying to get into his pants for a while. That guy is the most oblivious person I've ever met. Anyway, I went to Mr. Schuester today and auditioned."

"Is this a dream? Did I get in a car accident on the way here?" Quinton asked in disbelief. This was not Naomi. Naomi Puckerman did not sing and dance in a room full of losers. "Glee Club is social suicide, Naomi! Not even setting Jacob Ben Israel's locker on fire again can save you from this! Is Finn Hudson really that worth it?"

Naomi frowned and looked Quinton in the eye. "I think. Bagging the Quarterback puts me as undisputed top bitch, and Santana won't be able to touch me. Plus, it's not so bad. I like singing…"

"And?" Quinton knew things could not get worse. Coach Sylvester was already going insane at the idea of this new sub-basement group. It was only a matter of time before she destroyed it and he did not want Naomi involved at that time.

"I might have invited them to the party."

"Naomi!"

"They're not actually that bad, for losers," Naomi tried to defend her decision. "Artie's awesome at video games, and Tina's pretty bad ass when she can actually get a sentence out. Sure, Ryan Berry makes me want to set myself on fire but he's the best singer and Hummel can normally rein him in."

Quinton's stomach lurched (in disgust, he assured himself) at the thought of the school loser, Ryan Berry. The man was a menace to the system. It was his goal to be in every school club and Quinton was sure that if he had an ounce of physical coordination, he would have joined the Cheerios and football team already. Berry was insistent on the fact that he would one day be a Broadway star (television and movies optional) and leave this small town behind. Despite how much he loathed admitting it; Quinton knew this statement was true.

"I don't know if I can save you from this," Quinton told her. "You don't even have the status of the Cheerios backing you up. If you don't manage to bag Hudson, and if he's still even popular by then for the matters, then you're officially dead to this school."

"Won't you still talk to me?" Naomi batted her eyelashes.

"Maybe," Quinton acquiesced. Naomi appealed to his rebellious side, which he rarely was able to indulge in with his parents and the social pyramid of McKinley High breathing down his neck. She was a good friend despite her annoying tendencies, and he didn't know if he was able to give her up.

And that worried him just as much as Ryan Berry.

"They're going to be killed, when they show up," Quinton groaned. "They're not stupid enough to come, right?"

"I think they're hopeful, especially Ryan. They want to be popular because of Glee and they'll probably see this as the first step," Naomi looked slightly guilty. "Do you really think this is such a bad thing? They're not bad people."

"I'm getting tired of arguing with you about this," Quinton sighed. "Popularity works a certain way, but maybe this won't be as big as a disaster as I think it will be. Now, what do you need help setting up?"

The two went on setting up the speaker system and the drinks. Quinton kept his opinion of underage drinking to himself, knowing that he would need something strong for himself if he were to survive the night.

Surprisingly enough, the Gleeks weren't the first to arrive. Steadily watching the door, Quinton saw the football, hockey, and cheerleading teams arrive before them. Tina and Mercedes showed up first, looking nervous but going straight for the drinks and making conversation with Mika Chang and Matt Rutherford. Kurt Hummel and Artie Abrams never showed up, but Ryan Berry did.

* * *

><p>Waking up hung-over was one of the least pleasant experiences, especially when you had school the same day. Quinton groaned and rolled over, wondering if he could smother himself with his pillow. After hearing Naomi's confession, he had practically drunk himself into a stupor in worry. And jealousy, though he would never consciously admit it. He hated that his friend was able to be so close to Ryan Berry and be too busy slobbering all over Hudson's shoes to appreciate just how lucky she was.<p>

Quinton really didn't remember most of the night, despite downing a few more cups of Naomi's wonderful mixed drinks after Berry had arrived. The rest of it was a blur, and he only hoped he hadn't done anything explicitely stupid.

After a few more moments of moping he finally slid off of his bed. Quinton crawled to the bathroom where he threw his clothes off as quickly as possible and stumbled into the shower. It was scalding hot, just the way he preferred it. If only it could wash away everything. Quinton blinked blearily at the green paneled wall, finally waking up. He would have to keep an eye out for Naomi and try to prevent any slushies. Maybe get a little information on the other members of New Directions.

He wondered how Hudson had joined. The dull football player was like every other guy at school, too concerned with popularity and following the crowd to do something that they truly enjoyed. Doing something that made you happy brought on too many problems, Quinton thought. It made you start to realize how unhappy the rest of your life made you, and you could never change it even if you tried.

With a disgruntled sigh, Quinton shut off the shower after cleaning himself and walked to the mirror. He saw the appeal that everyone else seemed to notice, he really did. Quinton had soft blonde hair that waved slightly and framed his face. His face was mostly androgynous with the slightest bit of masculine edge, enough that he would never be mistaken for a girl. Coach Sylvester's crazy workouts and diets kept him slim and muscular, much more than the slobs on the football team.

Dressing was never a hassle when all Quinton had to do was slip on his Cheerio's uniform. It was almost unheard of, a male sophomore being made the captain of the cheerleading squad. But Coach Sylvester was always a loose cannon and she made the best decision for the team, despite people's opinion. Quinton was just glad for the status and protection.

"Quinton, honey, are you awake?" his mom called from the kitchen. Quinton headed down, surprised to see her cooking. His mom often went through strange phases and hobbies, but she usually left the cooking to the chef. He hoped it was at least half-way edible.

"I'm ready," he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and grabbed a glass of orange juice. He really needed to be hydrated, especially for practice later today. Coach had no mercy when it came to hangovers. "What are you cooking?"

"Just bacon and chocolate chip pancakes," she answered. "Those are your favorites, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Quinton said. He was surprised that she even remembered that from his childhood. His mom had begun drinking heavily around his tenth birthday, around when his father took his first mistress. "Is dad already gone?"

"I'm not going in until later," Quinton's dad announced, entering the kitchen. _Speak of the devil_, Quinton almost wanted to say, but he knew that once he uttered that word he would receive a lecture about Jesus. He was religious, but his parents took it to such a level that it was obvious they were compensating for something; maybe their failing marriage.

Russel Fabray kissed his wife on the cheek, and Quinton was overcome with a sudden wave of nausea at the idea that he had picked up that habit from his father. Judy placed a plate full of bacon and pancakes in front of him, and Quinton gave thanks, silently adding a 'and thank you, God, for saving me from Coach Sylvester's wrath by gifting me with an amazing metabolism.'

"We didn't get to talk last night at dinner, honey. How is everything at school?" his mom asked. Quinton felt uneasy at the family atmosphere in the room. It was different from how his mom usually was; it wasn't an act anymore but almost like she actually cared.

"Coach Sylvester has us working on a routine for Invitational, but it's pretty much a given that we'll win Nationals this year," Quinton said. He hesitated before adding, "My Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester, took over the Glee Club when Mr. Ryerson was fired. They don't have a lot of members, but Finn Hudson, the Quarterback, joined."

"Must be a queer, than," Russell remarked. Quinton barely managed to hold his flinch by blanking out his face. He was very good at that, after hiding so many things about himself over the years. "Guys like Finn Hudson should not be singing and dancing around like fags. Leave that to the women, right, Quinton."

"Right."

"Maybe you should think about trying out for Quarterback. High school is a brutal experience, those good Christian boys on the team will know better than to let him keeping playing. Cheerleading isn't a man's sport like football is, Quinton."

Panic welled up in Quinton, though he kept his calm externally. "The Cheerios are the only winning team at McKinley. I have more of a chance getting a cheerleading scholarship than a football one. Our team hasn't won a game since they hired Coach Tanaka.

"Plus, Brittany would be upset if I quit."

Brittany was a fellow Cheerio and a good friend. She was simple enough to not be suspicious that Quinton kept using her as his fake girlfriend. She was a member of his family's church and despite her lack of conventional intelligence; his parents would not care as long as they were celibate.

Russell frowned in anger but did not say anything more. Quinton knew that this was not the end of this discussion, and he could only hope that Finn stayed on the football team. He already got enough flack for being a Cheerio; he did not want to share a locker room with those idiots.

Quinton scarfed down his food without really tasting it, just wanting to get out of his house as quickly as possible. The family atmosphere had left as quickly as it came. His father was grumbling about socialists in the government as he read his newspaper, and his mom seemed to be having an internal argument with herself as she frowned at the wall. He wondered if she was thinking of remodeling it.

"I have to pick Santana and Brittany up for school," Quinton excused himself after cleaning his plate. "I have practice after school, but I'll be home for dinner."

"Goodbye, honey! I love you!" Judy called after him. Quinton didn't answer, mostly in shock. His mother hadn't told him she loved him since he graduated middle school.

* * *

><p>"You don't need to worry anymore," Naomi said as she stopped by Quinton's locker. She seemed to be everywhere nowadays. He was sort of missing the days where she seemed to disappear for days at a time, hiding in the nurse's office. Quinton had wondered just how Naomi managed to pass all of her classes, but then she saw her grades: that girl was a fucking genius. "Mr. Schuester is quitting and Glee Club is probably disbanding."<p>

"Good," Quinton replied with a satisfactory. "I know you don't have to deal with the pyramid bullshit because your bad girl image immediately puts you at the top, but they would have slaughtered you. If you want to bond with Hudson over your shared love of music, just invite him to karaoke."

"It's no fun unless you're hammered," Naomi pouted. "Do you have that dumbass celibacy club today?"

"It's not stupid, and that tomorrow. Why, are you planning to join or something?" Quinton raised an eyebrow.

"Nope. I'm just going to rag on you for a bit. You do realize everyone thinks you're gay, right? Coach Sylvester is the only thing between you and those lockers. Maybe you should watch out for yourself instead of worrying over me," Naomi commented. Quinton scowled at the idea that everyone thought (read: knew) he was gay. Why did bigots always have the best gaydars? "If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure Dave Karofsky likes it up the ass, and I'm fully prepared to oust him from that cozy closet if it would take the heat off of you."

"You're a true friend," Quinton deadpanned. Truthfully, he was a bit touched at her thoughtfulness. "I'm not gay, though. The celibacy club is only so my parents don't burn me at the stake."

"Ouch," Naomi winced. "My mom's pretty lax, because at least any baby I pop out is automatically Jewish. She's been trying to set me up with Ryan Berry, even though I keep telling her he's more flaming than Lance Bass."

"You think so?" Quinton hoped that his voice wasn't as transparent as he thought it was.

"Probably; I caught him looking down my top the other day, but I'm pretty sure he's dating Hummel, isn't he? I'll clock him up to an undecided," Naomi looked thoughtful for a few more moments as Quinton finished going through his locker. "Anyway, I should spread a rumor about me blowing you in the bathroom. It'll bring up your rep and maybe I'll make Finn jealous."

"Would that even work on him?"

"Don't know, don't care, consider it a favor," Naomi shot off in rapid fire. "Let's go stop by his locker. And I don't even want to hear it—I know you hate him. You're coming anyway."

Quinton rolled his eyes but followed obediently behind the tough girl. Normally he would have protested but…

"This is unacceptable, Kurt. We can't just roll over and let this happen! We'll convince Mr. Schuester to stay or find another find another coach."

…Ryan Berry's locker was a few down from Finn's.

"I don't know what you're expecting will happen. No one is miraculously going to come save us. We have more of a chance just auditioning for the school play. A teacher will actually care about taking over that," Kurt retorted. Quinton was barely listening to the painfully flirty conversation between Finn and Naomi, instead focusing his attention on the two best friends. "We probably wouldn't have made it past Sectionals either, Ryan. Vocal Adrenaline is amazing, and we don't have a female vocal lead that can compare to Jessica st. James, no matter how amazing Mercedes is."

Ryan Berry and Kurt Hummel were inseparable and had been since the beginning of freshman year. They bonded over their shared obsession with Broadway, their grating personalities, and their drive to get the hell out of Lima, Ohio. It was also popular belief that they were dating. It didn't exactly do well for either of their social lives at McKinley. Kurt always, futilely, denied that he was gay, but Ryan never commented except for ranting about his lesbian moms. Yet again, it didn't do much good.

Quinton hid it well, but he had a slight obsession (read: crush) on Ryan. It didn't matter that he dressed like an institutionalized toddler with his argyle sweaters and pressed khakis. His smile was as blinding as his voice was mesmerizing. And, yes, maybe Quinton had been reading a little too much poetry in English, but he meant it. Not that he would ever admit it or have any other interaction with that pathetic loser other than a slushie to the face.

He wasn't worth all of the issues it would cause; being out, that is.

"Earth to Quinton," Naomi's voice suddenly snapped him back into reality. "You okay, you kind of spaced."

He noticed that he had caught the attention of Kurt and Ryan. A flush threatened to climb his neck the more curious their expressions became. Quinton quickly grabbed Naomi's arm, not paying attention to the fact they really weren't supposed to be seen in the halls together if he wanted to keep his virginal rep, and pulled her away from the row of lockers. "Come on; let's get away from these homos."

Naomi shot him a confused look but walked away with him, waving goodbye to Finn. Quinton didn't bother to look back at Ryan's hurt expression or Kurt's furious one. He wasn't sure if he could stomach it.

* * *

><p>Quinton had been carrying deadweight at the bottom of his stomach since the morning: it might have been the guilt, but it was probably his mother's questionable cooking. He still had avoided looking at the new 'Gleek' table, consisting of Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, and Ryan. Finn had, predictably, chosen to sit with his football friends and Naomi was lounging all over him. Quinton just hoped he would get his act together and ask her out already; he was getting tired of the whining.<p>

"That is so disgusting," Santana commented. Quinton, resolutely staring at Ryan's foot, looked up in alarm.

"Completely," he agreed without thinking. He added after a moment of confusion, "what?"

"Boys," Santana rolled her eyes. "I was talking about Coach's Master Cleanse. God damn your metabolism. I've never wanted to be a boy more. I swear the only benefits girls get are multiple orgasms."

Santana waggled her eyebrows at Brittany, who bit her bottom lip and sent the Latina seductive look. Quinton rolled his eyes, equally exasperated and glad that he wasn't the only closet case in the school. He just wished they wouldn't be so obvious about it.

"You were all weird in the car this morning," Santana decided to change the subject. Her tone was harsh but her eyes were uncharacteristically soft. "Did anything happen?"

"My mom told me she loved me this morning," the more he thought about it the more it bothered him. What was just? Why was she acting so weird?

"What's wrong with that?" Santana raised an eyebrow. "I would kill for my mom to say that."

Quinton felt bad about bringing up his parents around Santana. The both of them shared severely dysfunctional families—it was something they bonded over. Brittany got it to a certain extent: her mother was a neglectful bitch and her father was a good guy, but extremely naïve to his wife's mistreatment of his daughter. They weren't sure if it was genetics or her treatment that made Brittany the way she was. Either way, the two had become extremely protective of the daft blonde.

"I don't know. It sounds completely normal, but it's my family. Something is up, and I can't figure out what," Quinton groaned, dropping his head onto the table. "It's like I'm stuck waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Always have an exit strategy," Brittany murmured. She shot Quinton a blank smile before beginning to braid the short strands of his hair.

"I'm tired of talking about this," Quinton announced. "I was so drunk last night, I barely remember what happened? How did I even get home?"

Santana chuckled into her thermos of Coach Sylvester's diet drink. "You are such an angry drunk. You spent most of the time yelling at random members of the Glee Club—how did they get in, anyway? Maybe it was a prank thing, but I think everyone was too drunk to remember their plans. Halfway through you went to go puke in the bathroom and I think the homo drove your car home."

"By homo, please tell me you mean Dave Karofsky," Quinton pleaded.

"What do you mean Dave Karofsky? He's gay?" Santana shook her head, looking baffled. "I'll have to keep that in mind. No, I mean Ryan Berry. Did you end up fucking him in the backseat of that sweet ride?"

"That's disgusting," Quinton actually began to turn green. What was he doing with Berry last night? Had he said anything that he could end up holding over his head? "I'm going to go puke some more in the bathroom."

Brittany and Santana watched the blonde Cheerio flee the cafeteria with concern in their eyes. They weren't the only ones who noticed either, and Ryan followed close behind Quinton.

Quinton had never understood the appeal of bulimia. Sure, it kept you skinny but it was the most disgusting feeling he had ever experienced. He dry heaved a few more times before finally finishing and flushing the toilet. Despite the vomiting, the feeling of lost control would not leave him. He needed to remember what happened yesterday nights before his actions were used against him.

"Throwing up rots your teeth," an annoying voice came from behind Quinton. He nearly jumped in surprise, a sense of dread filling him. This was it; the moment of truth.

"What are you doing in here?" he said gruffly. He ignored Ryan's accusing stare and walked to the sink to wash his mouth out. He pulled a piece of gum out from this backpack and stared at his reflection in the mirror as he chewed it. Quinton knew that he could leave but it wasn't really an option.

"I wanted to see if you are okay. Was something wrong with your lunch, or are you still hung over?" Ryan seemed concerned but none of this comforted Quinton. Ants were crawling all over his skin, and he felt the sudden urge to scratch until it cut and tore.

"Why do you care? We aren't friends, Berry. I'm the head Cheerio and you're just a Glee loser. I don't remember what happened last night but you're mistaken about whatever impression you got," Quinton stated, managing to keep the panic out of his voice. He added, "I'm not interested in you, romantic or otherwise. Keep your crush to yourself."

"Since you seem to care so much about my sexual orientation when we weren't even discussing it, know this: I'm bisexual and not interested in you in the slightest. And I know we're not friends, but that doesn't stop me from being kind. Bulimia is a very serious issue and men often avoid acknowledging the problem because it is popularized as a female issue," Ryan's chocolate brown eyes locked on to Quinton's hazel ones, causing another upsurge of nausea.

"I'm not bulimic, Berry, just hung over. Stop caring about me."

"No," Ryan said stubbornly. "I don't understand why you insist on acting like a child having a tantrum. I'm allowed to show concern to you, especially when, based on your behavior, you seem to be going through a sexuality crisis of some kind—"

"Stop it right there, you little queer," Quinton growled out. He couldn't stand this anymore. Ryan couldn't know, couldn't try to pretend that he even understood. He didn't want his help; it would only make everything worse.

"I was starting to think that because of your civil behavior last night, that maybe you were different from those other bigoted jocks," Ryan's face was flushed, and Quinton was ashamed to see that tears seemed to be brimming in his eyes. "I was obviously mistaken. I'm sorry that I ever _bothered _you with my presence."

Ryan stormed out of the bathroom, leaving him alone. Quinton took a few deep breaths, forcing down all of his emotion, before plastering a smile to his face and leaving for class.

* * *

><p>Naomi's mohawk (not the color): http: haircrazy [dot] info/ gallery/ mohawks/ 8980/

**Next Chapter: Showmance! Ryan's POV as he struggles to get along with his fellow male lead, make sense of Quinton's hot and cold behavior by joining the Celibacy Club, and gain more members for Glee Club (and maybe a certain Cheerio's interest) with a sexually charged performance.**


	2. Showmance

**Showmance**

"Have you ever been in love with someone who is so closeted they refuse to acknowledge your existence? And you want to help them and have that stupid happy ending that always happens in movies even though they are completely out of your league?" Ryan lamented at the dinner table. Kurt rolled his eyes beside him, used to hearing about his hopeless crush on Quinton.

"Yep," Lenore, Ryan's mom, answered from making vegan meatballs at the stove. "I married and had babies with her."

Lenore winked at her son. Ryan Berry was a drama queen of the highest extent and though she and her wife tried to avoid stereotyping, they weren't that surprised when she came out. He bonded immediately with Kurt, who had become like a second son to her and her wife.

"That doesn't help my problem, mom," Ryan whined.

"Okay," Kurt slapped his hand against the table. "This is my putting an end to this conversation. I've heard you wax poetic about Quinton's eyes…his hair…the way he arches his eyebrow…and I'm through with it. Let's move onto the next topic."

"How's Glee?" Lenore asked happily, going along with Kurt easily. Ryan always knew she was a traitor.

"There's a girl Mercedes that dresses almost as bad as Ryan. Her outfits are so loud I'm going deaf," Kurt complained. "We need more than seven members if we're going to qualify for Sectionals and no one wants to join even though we have Naomi Puckerman and Finn Hudson. We still don't have a female vocal lead."

"Take Mercedes shopping; use any and all methods, legal or not, to attain new members; and maybe your female lead with be one of them," Lenore answered easily. "There, everything is solved."

"If only it was that simple, but I appreciate the support," Kurt smiled.

Talking about Glee got Ryan thinking. Despite what Kurt thought, his life did not actually revolve around stalking Quinton Fabray and writing songs about him. "I might end up stabbing Finn with one of his infuriating drum sticks. I am a perfectly capable male lead; Mr. Schuester is being completely biased because he sees Finn as a younger him. I can't take this kind of competition, especially when we aren't in the same league."

"Remember how you two met?" Lenore prompted. Kurt and Ryan smiled fondly at each other, remembering the start of their beautiful, melodramatic friendship.

"It was our 8th grade production of Beauty and the Beast," they said in unison. "Kurt was Lumiere and Ryan was the Beast."

"Ryan politely introduced himself and told me that parts of my audition were flat…" Kurt reminisced.

"And Kurt told me my shirt made me look like an Oompa Loompa," Ryan finished.

"And what is the moral of this story?"

"Don't use spray tan and then wear purple the next day?" Ryan suggested. He didn't like the direction that his mother was going in. This was going to end up with him spending more time with Finn Hudson in an attempt to gain some goodwill between them, when it would really just end up in disaster. To Ryan, Hudson was nothing more than a brainless jock whose talent would never carry him as far as Broadway. It was ridiculous that he was getting in his way in some place as talentless as Lima, Ohio.

"You two hated each other until opening night. Then you both congratulated each other on the other's amazing performance," Lenore smiled. "You found a common passion that you could relate to. You just need to find something to connect you to Mr. Quarterback. What about football?"

"Who have you been raising these past few sixteen years?" Kurt deadpanned. Ryan shot a glare at him before turning his attention back to Lenore.

"That's obviously not an option."

"What other clubs is he in?"

Ryan took a moment to remember, before everything clicked. He was right when he described this as a disaster in the making. Nothing good could come from this, especially when Quinton Fabray was involved. "The Celibacy Club."

"Really?" Lenore seemed disbelieving. "Are people actually members of that? I thought this generation was supposed to be slutty, or was 90210 lying to me?"

"It's a horrible idea. The Celibacy Club is basically an attempt for a bunch or bigoted jocks and bitchy cheerleaders to act like a moral authority. Ryan would be eaten alive," Kurt objected.

"No, I think I'll give it a try."

"Don't be stupid," Kurt tried to convince him out of it. "This isn't even about Finn Hudson anymore. This is about Quinton being the president and you being masochistic enough to try this. You need to get over this crush, Ryan; you're only setting yourself up for heartbreak, and I'm worried about you."

"I really do think Quinton is closeted," Ryan said. "You didn't see the way he acted like in the bathroom. It was defensive, and not in an ignorant jock way. It was like he was scared that I knew something, and he kept on mentioning how he didn't remember the party the night before."

"How did that go, anyway?" Lenore rested her chin on her hand. She loved teenage gossip in every way shape or form, even if it meant living vicariously through her son.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ryan mumbled. "Anyway, I think the vegan meatballs are done, so let's eat."

The three dished out five plates, setting the table for Burt and Hannah, who were yelling loudly at the football game on TV.

"Dinner time!" Kurt announced loudly. Ryan put all thoughts of Finn and Quinton out of his mind. This was what family and love was supposed to be like.

* * *

><p>"Hello Finn, I think we should talk," Ryan approached the Quarterback after Glee practice. He knew now more than ever they needed to band together to put up a united front against Mr. Schuester's disco obsession. He could put away his pride for the greater good. "I'm here to propose a truce. While I know I haven't exactly been the most welcome to you—"<p>

"Yeah, you're kind of scary. I kept checking under my bed to make sure you weren't hiding there with a knife," Finn interrupted him. Ryan had to keep himself from slamming his head against the wall; was he really expected to work with someone as brainless as Hudson? "And I don't understand half of what you said."

Apparently so.

"What I'm saying is…we should be friends. We need to work together, as male leads, to show Mr. Schuester that we can't possibly perform disco at the school assembly," Ryan shot Finn a significant look and knew he was beginning to understand his point. "We'll be eaten alive."

"So what should we do?"

"I think we should go behind Mr. Schue's back and do our own routine: something that our classmates will actually like. Maybe we should talk about it later today, after school?"

Finn nodded along, thinking for a moment. His face looked horribly unattractive like that, Ryan thought. "I have Celibacy Club today."

"That's alright. I'm sure Quinton doesn't mind sit-ins?" Ryan asked, sounding completely innocent. Leave it to Finn to give him the perfect opening. Maybe he was more useful than he originally thought.

"Yeah, man, see you later!" Finn smiled before walking ahead to his next class. Ryan smirked slightly; he was glad that his plans were working without any problems.

Ryan made his way to English, where he sighed as he took his seat. Kurt was not in his period and so he would be left bored out of his mind for the next hour. Classes at McKinley never challenged him, and if it weren't for his best friend, he probably would have transferred to a private school a long time ago.

"So, I noticed you were talking to Finn earlier," Naomi greeted him as she slipped into the seat next to his. Ryan shot her a look of confusion. Sure, their parents were friends but the two Jewish teens had never really talked at school outside of Glee Club. "Come on, I'm reaching the end of my rope. What were you guys talking about and how can it benefit me?"

"We were talking about doing a different routine for the school assembly," Ryan told her. "We want to do something that…isn't disco. And Finn has Celibacy Club today so I'm going to a meeting."

Naomi looked deeply disturbed. "Finn is in the Celibacy Club? Does he actually believe in that stuff? Is that why he hasn't had sex with me yet?"

"Naomi, Finn is the most clueless boy on this planet. He probably doesn't even know that you want to have sex with him," Ryan rolled his eyes. Naomi instantly perked up at this information; she was not to be deterred. "Aren't you taking this crush on him a little too seriously?"

"You're stupid," Naomi stated plainly while giving him the stink-eye. "Don't think I haven't noticed your little thing for Quinton. He may not remember what happened at that party, but I wasn't that sloshed. You're totally using Finn as your excuse to get closer to Quinton."

Ryan flushed at the memory of that night. He hadn't talked about it to anyone, not even Kurt. That was something he wanted to keep to himself; part of him was relieved when Quinton didn't remember. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Okay, this is how it's going down," Naomi told him. Ryan looked around in a panic, wishing for once that the teacher was attentive enough to stop their conversation. "I wants up on Finn, and you want to ride Quinton like a cowboy into the sunset."

"I think you've been spending too much time with Santana Lopez. You've begun to pick up on her inflections."

"I don't know that is, but I probably don't care anyway," maybe she was perfect for Finn. "The fact of the matter is that I got pull with Quinton. He's my boy and he knows when to take a good deal. If you helped me with Finn, I might just persuade him that Glee is in his best interests."

Ryan couldn't deny he was intrigued. That was one thing he loved about girls: they always were scheming despite how stupid they made themselves appear. The knowledge of that was frightening and slightly arousing. Quinton happened to act the same way as his two cohorts, Brittany and Santana (well, maybe just Santana), and for Ryan that was a huge turn on.

"You could really do that?"

"You bet your sweet, Jewish ass. You should wear skinny jeans and show that bad boy off more."

"I don't see how that is related to our conversation…" Ryan trailed off. "What do want in return? I'm not exactly Finn's best friend; I wouldn't know how to help you seduce him."

"Let me pick the song for the assembly."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on!" Naomi whined. "I'll totally pick a bad ass one that will have people lining up to join Nude Erections!"

"I resent that nickname."

"Just another point to my theory that Mr. Schuester is a secret pervert and his main goal is to open up his own prostitution ring—but anyway, look at it this way. What does everyone here want?"

"Blood?"

"Sex! Skimpy outfits, provocative dance moves, and a blatantly sexual song…Quinton is going to cream him pants!"

Ryan had the feeling that Naomi's idea would end up causing more harm than good but it wouldn't hurt to try. She was more popular than he would ever be—maybe she knew what she was doing. He knew he would have to give in eventually. "Fine, but I get last say on the final song choice. The outfits can't be anything too bad. Come to Celibacy Club with me today; it'll give us a chance to talk and you a chance to rub up against Hudson."

"You're a genius, Berry! This is perfect."

* * *

><p>Ryan could feel Quinton's glare burning through the back of his head. He determinedly kept his eyes locked on Finn's, the two discussing where they could practice without Mr. Schuester finding out. Ryan refused to give the blonde the satisfaction of flinching under his glare.<p>

"Excuse me, what exactly are you doing here, Berry?" Quinton's cold tone cut through the conversation of the room.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but Finn and I are planning something for Glee Club. I know how dedicated he is to the Celibacy Club and I didn't want to make him choose between the two. It isn't too much of a hassle to let me sit in for this meeting, is it?" Ryan said with a pleasant smile on his face. He could see Quinton's jaw clench from across the room.

"Of course it is fine, Berry, maybe you'll even learn some morals along the way. But you can't disrupt our activities, and you have to participate."

"That won't be a problem."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, electricity crackling through the air and Finn shifting uncomfortably in his chair next to Ryan. He finally decided to end the silence by asking, "Where are the girls?"

"We separate for the first half hour and come together later."

It was the longest half hour of Ryan's life. He and Finn had gotten almost nothing done with Quinton constantly interrupting them to lecture about Bible verses or disturbing STDs that were gotten from having sex with animals. Every guy in the room was looking progressively sicker and like they were regretting joining to satisfy their girlfriend's demands.

Naomi strutted into the room beside Brittany and Santana when it was time. A few Cheerios followed behind, immediately rushing to their boyfriend's sides. Naomi slapped Quinton's ass as she passed by him, chuckling at his horrified expression. "Hey sexy," she greeted Finn with a wink and took a seat next to them. "Was your meeting as awesome as mine, cause we just spent the whole time giving each other blowjob tips."

"H-hey Naomi," Finn stuttered back. Well, at least he was actually interested in the girl, even if he was completely oblivious, Ryan thought. Naomi perched on his lap, ignoring Quinton's disapproving expression and relishing in Finn's mutterings of "mailman...mailman."

"I have the perfect song," she told Ryan. "Push It by Salt-n-Pepa."

"Wow," he said in shock, though he wasn't sure why he was surprised. "You certainly did mean it when you said explicit. Mr. Schuester is going to murder us."

"But it's worth it, right?" Finn asked with a nervous look.

"Of course," Naomi assured him. He stared Ryan straight in the eyes. "Right, Berry? This is what we need to get new members. Not to mention it will get so much buzz. You know what everyone thinks about show choir, right? That we stand around singing show tunes all day. And that might be what you want to do, but it can't be the reality if we ever want to make it to Regionals."

"I suppose you're right," Ryan sighed. "I'll text everyone to let them know the plan. Do you think rehearsing tomorrow after school is a good idea?"

"Whatever," Naomi answered. She had already checked out of the conversation, pulling at Finn's collar and fluttering her eyelashes. She certainly didn't know the meaning of subtly, something which Ryan mourned the loss of. Whatever happened to girls wanting to be wooed?

He wondered if Quinton was a pursuer. Ryan certainly wouldn't mind to be wined and dined, though he had the feeling that someone so closeted would need to take it slow; maybe when they left this cow town together, as they were probably destined to. Ryan knew that he had found the one. It was the same feeling that his moms had described when they first met each other. He would just have to fight harder for the chance to be happy.

"Okay everyone; it's time for immaculate affection. Remember, if the balloon pops the noise makes the angels cry," Quinton told the room. Brittany whimpered in horror at the mental image.

Balloons were quickly passed out as couples paired up. Naomi latched to Finn's side and Quinton grabbed Brittany immediately. Ryan gulped in fear as Santana sauntered up to him, a devious gleam in her eyes. He wondered if he would make it out of this alive.

Naomi began grinding violently against the balloon, letting out little moans every once in a while; Finn looked like he was about to explode. Ryan kept his attention on Quinton, who looked barely interested as he went through the motions with Brittany. Brittany was staring at Santana with bedroom eyes, occasionally biting her lip and fluttering her eyelashes. Ryan noticed that every time she did this, Santana's movements became more furious.

"Try to be less obvious with who you're really staring at, homo," Santana told him.

"I could say the same for you," Ryan retorted. Her face hardened, a look of panic shooting through her eyes, as she opened her mouth with an excuse. Before she could, the sound of a balloon popping filled the room.

"It must have caught on my zipper!" Finn yelled. Naomi tried to put on an innocent expression, nodding along. It was ruined by the sexy look she shot him a few seconds later. Quinton glared at them, looking like he was about to start a tirade. Ryan was so distracted by how sexy he looked while angry that he didn't notice Santana's payback until it was too late.

"This is stupid, Quinton," Santana said loudly. The room seemed to freeze as she dropped the balloon. "I can think of several more fun things I could be doing."

Ryan yelped in surprise, and Quinton looked just in time to catch Santana groping Ryan through his jeans. He looked like he could kill her with only his glare. "Santana!"

As the two were caught in an intense glaring session, the others seemed to realize that the meeting was done for. They slinked away as quietly as possible, trying not to gain Quinton's attention. Ryan walked over to his seat and grabbed his bag, leaving with Naomi and Finn. Ryan's absence seemed to knock Quinton back into reality as he chased after them.

"Berry!"

The trio stopped to cautiously regard the furious blonde Cheerio. Ryan nodded to the two, telling them to leave without him. "I'll see you guys tomorrow. Naomi, start thinking about possible choreography."

"See ya later," Finn said goodbye hesitantly before leaving the two males alone in the hallway. Ryan watched Quinton's face flush in anger as his chest rose up and down rapidly. It was probably wrong, but after all the stimulation from Santana; he began to harden from the image in front of him.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" Quinton yelled. "You can't leave me alone for a moment; just let me have one thing. You are everywhere and it is driving me insane! Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything, Quinton," Ryan told him, trying to remain calm. "I'm not driving you crazy, you are. Stop denying what you are when it is so obvious to both of us. I know you don't remember the other night, but I do."

"What happened?" Quinton asked in a panicked voice. "Whatever I said, I was obviously drunk and not making any sense."

"I think that, for once, you were being honest with yourself," Ryan responded. "I understand that you're scared, but you're hurting the both of us. Stop taking out your confusion on me when all I want to do is help you."

Quinton looked like he had just been struck by lightning and didn't know what to think. His eyes were locked with Ryan's. He was drowning and he didn't want to escape. This was what he had been longing for, for so long. He was so close he could practically taste it.

"Stop pushing me away when all I want to do is be with you."

It was the final nail in the coffin. During the exchange, the two had stepped closer to each other, now invading the other's personal space. Quinton lurched forward, cupping Ryan's face in between his rough palms and pressing their lips together. Ryan felt like he had died and gone to heaven. Their lips moved against each other, pushing and pulling in a constant flow.

Just as quickly, Quinton wrenched himself away with a terrified expression. "I have to go. Don't tell anyone about this."

Ryan watched, exhausted and heartbroken, as the Cheerio fled from the hallway. Would he ever get his happy ending?

* * *

><p>It was their last rehearsal before the big performance and everyone was restless. "Guys, I think we've finally got it!" Ryan announced happily. He had put the kiss and the subsequent result of Quinton avoiding him in the halls behind him in the name of professionalism. He really hoped that Naomi was right; they needed new members desperately. Mr. Schuester might not have read the Show Choir rule book, but Ryan knew that they would need 12 members to qualify.<p>

"This is going to be awesome," Finn gushed. He was just happy that he had been paired up with Naomi as a dancing partner. Artie and Tina had been giving each other goo-goo eyes the whole time while Mercedes and Kurt awkwardly maneuvered around. Ryan only hoped that they would loosen up before the assembly.

Ryan had agreed to share the solo with Naomi and Finn, Mercedes occasionally singing a few notes and Artie taking the spoken lines. They had this is the bag and McKinley High (and Quinton, his mind traitorously added) would never knew what hit them.

"We go on in an hour," Kurt announced, looking at his watch. "Last chance to back out."

No one said anything; they knew this was the much better alternative to disco. They all nodded in agreement before going to separate bathroom to change into their costumes. Kurt followed Ryan as they went into neighboring stalls.

"This is so disgusting," Kurt complained. "You'd think that the janitors would actually do their job, but they're probably too busy cleaning slushie off of the floor to do anything else."

"I don't understand why Principle Figgins doesn't have that machine removed from the cafeteria. He always says that his hands are tied, but everyone knows that is bullshit," Ryan agreed.

"Ooh, a curse word. Someone must be worked up," Kurt teased. He exited the stall, fixing his hair in the mirror. "Do you think that the fanny pack is too much?"

Ryan gasped in mock surprise. "I never thought the day would come: Kurt Hummel actually asking me for fashion advice?"

"Shut up."

Ryan joined him by the other sink. "I feel like something is missing from my costume. Any opinions?"

"I know just the thing," Kurt said deviously after examining his face for a few moments. He reached into his bag and pulled out eyeliner and hair gel. "I'll make a sex god out of you yet, Ryan Berry."

"You l-look hot," Tina was the first to comment, surprisingly, when they arrived backstage after the others. "I like the g-g-guy liner."

"It was Kurt's idea," Ryan said, shooting him a fake glare. Kurt smirked in return before turning his attention to the stage.

"I think Figgins is almost done with the announcements. Are you all ready to be sexy?"

"Aren't I always?" Naomi said breezily, shooting a wink at Finn. They all laughed, breaking the tension that was pre-performance nerves.

"Presenting, the New Directions!" they heard Mr. Schuester from the stage. They all gulped before going into their professional mode and taking their places.

Ryan knew the routine by heart as he sang along with Naomi and Finn. The entire performance he locked eyes with Quinton, who looked shocked and trapped. He couldn't run away from this without bringing attention to himself. Ryan wholly believed in communicating your feelings for someone through song, and while he wished they were singing something more emotional, it was better than nothing.

The next day, Ryan wasn't surprised when their teacher announced that they had three new members.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter: Acafellas! Now that memories of that night are returning, Quinton avoids Ryan by joining Mr. Schuester's all male acapella group with Finn, before coming out to Naomi in the most horrific way possible.<strong>

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	3. Acafellas Part One

**The Party - Acafellas Part 1**

"Sup, Berry?" Quinton slurred at Ryan, precariously waving his drink around so beer sloshed out of the top. "How's your night so far? Missing your little boyfriend?"

Ryan Berry gave him that infuriating look that never failed to set his blood on fire. It was disgusting, that such a loser had so much power over him. He looked different than usual; he was wearing skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His eyes looked darker than usual when highlighted with eyeliner. "If you're referring to Kurt, he's not my boyfriend. And I don't appreciate being hassled by someone who can even stand up on their own. How much have you had to drink?"

"Fuck you," Quinton retorted from the wall. The room was spinning and he felt like he was about to be sick.

"Obviously too much, since he didn't even notice I was here," Naomi remarked from beside Ryan. Quinton did a double-take; had he really been so focused on the homo that he hadn't noticed one of his closest friends. "I'm cutting you off here, Quinton. I don't want to have to call an ambulance for alcohol poisoning."

It was already too late. Quinton pushed past both of them, rushing to the bathroom. Santana and Brittany started as he collapsed in front of the toilet and emptying his stomach. Santana gave him a dirty look before adjusting her skirt and swiping a hand across her smudged lipstick. They exited the bathroom and returned to the part.

"Why do you care so much?" Quinton heard Naomi from the hallway as their voices got closer and closer. God, his mouth tasted disgusting.

"Basic human decency," Ryan said. He kneeled down next to the limp form over the toilet.

"More than he's ever offered you," Naomi snorted. "Whatever, go indulge your little crush and go play nurse."

Naomi left the two boys alone in the bathroom. The silence was long and awkward as Ryan fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt and Quinton fought the urge to retch again.

"I hate you," Quinton mumbled, not noticing Ryan's flinch. "I really do. You're so fucking perfect and annoying and loud. God, I can always hear you from the other side of the hall. It's like I can never escape you. We have three classes together and the same lunch period. It fucking sucks."

"I've had years of practicing with projecting," Ryan said quietly. "How do you know all the classes we have together?"

"Because you always sit in the front row, Ryan. You know I almost failed English last year because I was too busy staring at the back of your head to take notes? My dad was so pissed," Quinton laughed bitterly. "Not that he isn't always pissed."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know," he whined. "Why are you still here? I want you to go away!"

"If I leave you'll end up drowning in a pile of your own vomit."

"That's disgusting," Quinton growled, suddenly angry. "You're disgusting!"

Ryan flinched as Quinton suddenly stood up, stumbling and gesturing his arms violently. "I didn't have these feelings before you came around! I was normal; sure, I like cheerleading and not football, but I could have just been into the short skirts. But no, you had to infect me with these wrong thoughts. I'm going to hell."

By the end of his tirade Quinton had fallen back to the floor and was sobbing openly. Ryan bit his lip and hovered above the convulsing form. He finally settled a hand on Quinton's shoulder, relaxing when he did not automatically throw it off of him. "There's nothing wrong with you, Quinton. I understand you might have been taught different, but everything you feel is normal."

"I'm religious."

"So am I."

Ryan gulped nervously as Quinton fixed his gaze on his face, never once wavering. Quinton tried to fight his desires, but he wasn't wrong strong enough to stop himself from closing the distance between them and kissing Ryan. Ryan was stiff before sighing against his lips and pulling away.

"You taste like vomit; this is not how I imagined our first kiss would be like," he muttered. Quinton turned away to the toilet and puked again. "And that just did wonders for my self-esteem. Come on, where do you keep your keys? I'm going to drive you home. I couldn't forgive myself if I let you wrap yourself around a tree."

"Front pocket," he groaned out before dry heaving again. He had never felt this horrible, not since he had woken up from his first wet dream and realized it had been about a boy. "Are you going to grope me?"

Ryan rolled his eyes at Quinton's immature giggling. "I swear this is why I hate parties. Everyone is so unbearable when drunk. I swear you've gone through several different mood swings since the beginning of our conversation."

"I'm an angry drunk."

"I noticed," he deadpanned. He hooked an arm around Quinton's waist and pulled him up. "Go wash your mouth out at the sink."

Quinton stumbled over to the sink, brushing Ryan's arms off of him. He blindly reached into the cabinet, knocking over various prescriptions and bottles before he grabbed the mouth wash. He scowled, thinking of the minty taste. Holding his breath, he took a swig. Quinton was barely able to swish it around before he spat it back up.

"I hate mint," he growled.

"I'll be sure to remember that," Ryan mumbled to himself. Quinton wondered if he realized that he was speaking out loud. He ignored the warm feeling building in his chest. He took another swig of the mouth wash.

"Why did you even come to the party? You're a loser; this could have been some prank where you ended up naked and tied to a pole," Quinton asked.

"Kurt said the same thing, but I prefer to view the world in a very optimistic way. While some could argue that being stuck in a bathroom with a drunken homophobe is just as bad as any prank, I'm perfectly fine with how this evening turned out. I had hoped for better, but this isn't the worst that could happen," Ryan said. "You are Kurt are very similar."

"How?"

"You're both very pessimistic; though I'm sure you two would phrase it as 'realistic'. Kurt and I are very similar, too. We're both too big for this town and want something more. We _deserve_ something more. I think you're the same way, too. You shouldn't push me away, Quinton," Ryan reached out a hand. Quinton was still, only moving when Ryan pushed him in the direction of the door.

The party was still in full swing as they made their way down the stairs. Santana and Brittany were doing their signature body shots, the boys in the room practically foaming at the mouth at the sight of their bras. Quinton didn't understand the appeal, no matter how much he wished he did. He convinced himself it was because he viewed the two Cheerios as sisters. That had to be it.

"Which one is your car?"

"The red one," Quinton gestured drunkenly in its general direction. Ryan sighed, reaching down into his pocket to grab the keys. His other hand locked around Quinton's wrist as he led him down the street.

"You have a very nice car."

"It was a birthday present from my dad. I think he was sick of driving me around," Quinton sighed. Ryan unlocked the door, sliding into the driver's seat. He grudgingly walked to the other side, sitting in the passenger's seat.

"I don't have a car; I insist that all extra money my moms make goes to my New York fund. Kurt drives me to and from school. I don't really see the point of learning to drive, anyway; everyone takes the subway or a taxi in New York."

"You seem so sure about your future plans," Quinton pressed his forehead against the cool window. "You were right when I said I wanted more than Lima, Ohio. But that doesn't mean I'm going to get it. Everyone wants more than this cow town, yet almost no one escapes. How do you know that you won't come crawling back when your dreams don't come true? Take Naomi, she's smarter than you would think, and she can play guitar like nobody's business. But she's going to end up married to some deadbeat that ends up leaving her with two kids, just like her mom. She deserves more than that, but that's all she will get."

"I feel sorry for you," Ryan said after a long silence. "Dreams only come true if you never give up on them. How can you say you have dreams of making something of yourself if you already think you have already lost?"

"I never said that I gave up; just that I know that there is a chance I won't achieve my dreams. And I don't trust anyone but myself. I will do whatever it takes to get out of here. Naomi won't leave her sister to fend against her mom by herself. To Brittany, it doesn't matter where she dances, even if it is some beat up dance studio," he mused. "Santana might actually make something of herself, but Brittany would hold her back."

"What about me?" Ryan asked. "Do you think that I have any chance?"

"I don't know you."

"You could know me. You never tried before," they locked eyes. Quinton fidgeted under the intensity of his stare before tearing his eyes away. He focused on the night outside.

"You should drive. My GPS has directions back to my house," he finally said.

The car ride was silent. It was Quinton's opinion that there had been too much talk about important subjects, especially when he was drunk. He always did tend to end up on the negative side of things when inebriated. He let out a sigh under his breath, hoping that he did not attract Ryan's attention. He looked out the window to see that they had arrived at his street. "My house is the one with the fountain in the front yard."

"How…grandiose," Ryan said stiffly. That was probably the most polite way to describe the ridiculous monster that was the Fabray's house. There were three things Russell Fabray liked to flaunt above all: his religion, his perfect family, and his large salary. The fact that he was able to afford something so excessive was enough to disgruntle the neighbors without a single contemptuous comment—not that he didn't indulge in those either.

"How are you going to get home?"

"I'll walk. I find it to be good exercise, and Lima is not crime-ridden enough for it to be unsafe walking around at night. Our houses are not that far apart," Ryan told him. "Do you want me to walk you to the door?"

"Well, aren't you chivalrous?" Quinton sneered. He struggled to open the door, flushing when Ryan unlocked it.

"I'm surprised you can even use a word like 'chivalrous' while intoxicated."

"I'm not a girl," Quinton said definitively, stumbling out of his car and onto the sidewalk. He growled at the ground, crawling his way to the soft grass of the lawn. He flopped down, too tired to continue. From behind him, he heard Ryan sigh and follow after him. He paid no attention as the Jewish boy sat next to him, gazing up at the stars. "I love history."

"What?" Ryan asked.

"I think it started when I saw Hercules, the Disney version. The first thing I did after was look up every constellation and the Greek story behind it. I was young, so I believed that they were real. My mom was the one to tell me that they aren't real. I'm pretty sure a lecture about the evilness of multiple gods followed; but I just remember wanting so badly to figure out what really did happen. Still to this day, I want to be a historian. Stupid, right?"

"Not at all," Ryan answered quietly. Quinton turned to face him, smiling brightly. Ryan's breath hitched as a blush crawled up his face. "You're very beautiful, Quinton."

"Is that why you like me?"

"No," Ryan said hesitantly. "You're passionate and smart. When you enter a room…everyone automatically looks at you, and not because of your looks. You have such a presence."

"I part people like the Red Sea," he giggled.

"Is…there anything you like about me?" Ryan asked in a small voice. Quinton wondered if the singer expected him to tear him down. It was tempting—it's what he was supposed to do.

"You're ten times more passionate than me. You love singing and know that you want to be on Broadway no matter what. You must have some redeemable qualities if you have kept a friend this long, despite your personality," Quinton was quiet. "You're cute."

"Thank you," Ryan said with a beaming smile. Quinton ignored the way it made his stomach twist up. "I should go now. Can you make it to the door?"

"Yeah," Quinton heaved himself up, walking to the doorway with only a few stumbles. "Goodnight, Ryan."

"Goodnight, Quinton. I hope your hangover isn't too bad in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter: Acafellas Part 2!<strong> Now that memories of that night are returning, Quinton avoids Ryan by joining Mr. Schuester's all male acapella group with Finn, before coming out to Naomi in the most horrific way possible.<strong>**

**_Questions: _Which one of these pairings would you be interesting reading a story about? Finn/boy!Rachel, boy!Brittana, girl!Kurt/Quinn, or girl!Puckurt?**

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	4. Acafellas Part Two

**Acafellas Part 2**

"It's too easy," Santana gloated. "Those Glee losers are all so trusting; I don't know how they're going to make it in the real world. I'm almost disappointed."

Quinton rolled his eyes from the seat in between Santana and Brittany, and across from Coach Sylvester. They were having another status report on their attempts to destroy Glee Club. While he wasn't exactly the biggest fan, the whole thing made him feel guilty. Naomi really liked singing. He refused to even think of Ryan.

"Dakota Stanley is almost as frightening as you, Coach. They'll all have quit or attempted suicide before the week is over," Quinton told her. The suggestion that they needed a professional choreographer was the only time he had spoken to Ryan in the past week, and the brunette had jumped at the chance to gain Quinton's approval.

"Is that enough? We need them to start hating each other, otherwise they'll stick it out until Schuester comes back," Coach commented.

"Finn and I have jumped ship and joined Mr. Schuester's a capella group. He won't come back to New Directions is he's successful there. No one would willingly deal with Berry's attitude," Quinton answered.

"I convinced Aretha that Hummel wasn't a total Gaylord. She's practically salivating after him now," Santana said proudly. Brittany nodded from the other side of him.

"What?" Quinton said, annoyed. "I don't remember agreeing to that. I was never told."

Santana rolled her eyes at his glare, a satisfied smirk on her face. "I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's the sort of thing the Head Cheerio should do. What does it matter to me if Jones gets her heart broken, if it means New Directions is finished? We're trying to make them fall apart from the inside out."

Coach Sylvester nodded in approval to Santana's behavior, causing Quinton to seethe in his chair. He already had enough on his plate with Ryan and his parents to have time to deal with someone going for his position. Santana was such a closeted bitch. He ignored the part of him that felt bad for Kurt Hummel; he was going to be forced into burying himself deeper into the closet or coming out.

Quinton never wanted to be faced with that decision. He could barely even say the 'G' word in the first place.

"Is that all?" Coach asked with a superior look on her face. "All right, get out of my office before you stink it up with the smell of failure that seems to be secreting out of your unusually large pores."

Brittany and Santana flinched, immediately rushing out to check their faces in the mirror. Quinton followed more slowly, thinking of how he was going to deal with this whole Santana business. Being the Head Cheerio was the only thing that kept his Dad from killing him for being a cheerleader in the first place. He couldn't afford to lose his position.

"Okay, listen up, Satan," Quinton stalked over, slamming Santana's locker door shut. She glared up at him, trying to raise herself up to his height. It was clear she wasn't going to back down easily; he hadn't really expected her to either. "I beat every short-skirted slut in this school for the top dog position. This is ten times harder than bumbling your way to the Quarterback position like dumbass Hudson. I clawed my way to the top, and if you think I will hesitate to destroy you because you are a girl, you are sorely mistaken."

Santana scoffed. "Maybe you clawed your way to the top, but you've been slacking off, Fabray. I never saw you as competition for Head Cheerio, and really, that's my mistake. But I will get the position, because this is what I was born to do. You will never out-bitch me."

Quinton scowled as Santana grabbed Brittany's pinkie and began leading her down the hall. She called over her shoulder, "and Q, next time, don't challenge me to a cat fight; your gay is showing!"

Quinton felt like she had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. She must have known something; Santana claimed she had an amazing gaydar, but she never would have made an indirect threat like that without proof. And it wasn't like he could use Brittany against her, that was heartless, and she had spent enough time letting people know that she fooled around with Brittany only to get guys interested. No one would believe him, even if he was the Head Cheerio.

He shook his head with a growl and made his way to his car. School had finished a long time ago, and he had to get to Mr. Schuester's apartment to rehearse for Acafellas. They were going to be performing at the PTA meeting soon, and Quinton would rather shoot himself in the face if he had the choice. The sacrifices he made for popularity, he swore.

He was sure that the all-male a capella could have survived without his help, but he needed an excuse to avoid Ryan. The memories of the party had finally returned, and it brought a flush of shame to his face. How could he have revealed so much of himself to someone he didn't even like that much? Ryan Berry was infuriating and now he had too much dirt to hold over his head. God help him if Santana ever found out what had been said that night.

Being in Mr. Schuester's apartment was awkward, to say the least. Coach Tanaka was trying to bumble his way through learning the dance moves as Mr. Schue tried to help him. Mrs. Schuester was watching with a judgmental look in her eyes from the kitchen entrance; one guess who had kept their teacher in Lima and from accomplishing his dreams. Finn smiled at him from his seat on the coach, patting the cushion next to him in invitation. It was that or take the seat next to Mr. Ryerson, who he preferred to stay far away from.

"What up, man?" he asked in a friendly voice. Quinton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The stress about Santana was getting to him and he didn't want to take it out on Hudson, no matter how much the taller boy did not deserve his popularity. He hadn't even worked hard for it; the football team hadn't won a game in ages.

"Everything's good. How are things over here?"

"We've almost got the whole thing down. It's going to be totally awesome; Naomi says that watching people perform turns her on," Finn suddenly looked uncomfortable. "You two spend a lot of time together, right? There's not anything going on between you?"

"Not at all. Naomi and I are just friends; she likes you," he decided to help his friend along. God knows why she was interested in someone as thick as Finn, but whatever floated her boat. Quinton could never see himself being interested in the Quarterback, even if he was a girl; maybe for popularity, if he/she was desperate.

"Really? She said that?" was Hudson really being serious. They weren't going to gossip over things like this like girls.

"She's just waiting for you to ask her out. You should do it soon," Quinton suggested. The sooner he got to stop listening to Naomi's whining, the better. Maybe she would be less annoying about Glee and Ryan is she was getting regularly laid. Quinton wondered if she even knew about Finn's mailman problem. It had been the butt of many locker room jokes, even with the Cheerios.

"That's a good idea. Hey, is there anyone you're trying to catch the attention of? I heard you just broke up with Brittany," Finn said. Ugh, again with the chit-chatting. Had he broken up with Brittany? He had trouble keeping track of their fake relationship.

"No, I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now," Quinton answered. It wasn't the complete truth, though he'd never admit to his strange infatuation with Ryan. He wouldn't date him even if he had the chance, despite the attraction. It would cause too much trouble that he wasn't even remotely ready to deal with.

"Hey, guys!" Mr. Schuester said excitedly. "I think we've almost got this down, but let's run through it one more time. We're going to rock this PTA Meeting!"

* * *

><p>Ryan Berry was not known for his patience, though he thought he was doing a very good job of it these past few weeks. He had not pushed Quinton into admitting his feelings for him (much), and he had stopped complaining (so much) about the lack of female lead. But when people involved Kurt in their twisted schemes, he was not pleased. While Kurt was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Ryan was very protective.<p>

"We need to have a gayvention. That's a gay intervention," was the first thing that Ryan said as he approached Mercedes. Tina stood beside him, nodding in agreement. While the two were not close, they felt that they needed to protect their teammate from possible heartbreak.

"K-Kurt is lady fabulous," Tina added. While Ryan felt he should have been offended on his best friend's behalf, it was slightly true.

"That's not true. We have a connection," Mercedes denied, continuing to sort through her locker. Ryan frowned in frustration.

"Look, Mercedes, you're just going to get hurt here. We can't afford to let personal feelings get in the way of the club. Relationships with fellow members are always what causes them to break up!" he stomped his foot dramatically. Tina gave him a sideways glance.

"I'm tired of being lonely, guys. No one else is interested in me, and Kurt makes me feel special. What's wrong with that? I'm not going to get hurt," and with that, Mercedes closed her locker and walked away. Tina sighed beside him.

"Well, t-that didn't w-w-work. This is g-going to end in disaster," she commented.

"I refuse to accept defeat," Ryan answered, already catching sight of Quinton Fabray from across the hall. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to fix things; I shall see you during practice."

Tina was left, bewildered, as she stomped his way over to the Head Cheerio.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said as a greeting. Quinton jumped; panic quickly filling his eyes before he composed himself. "You're trying to sabotage Glee Club, but it won't work. I won't let you succeed."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Berry. Go be crazy around someone else," Quinton dismissed him. Ryan bit down on his lower lip, the slight tang of blood filling his mouth. Quinton made him angry like no one else.

"I know you manipulated me into getting rid of Mr. Schuester like that; it was stupid of me to have listened to anything you said," he growled out. "But don't mess like Kurt like that. He had enough crap to deal with."

"Protecting your little boyfriend? Quinton asked with a deceptively light tone. He continued his way down the hall, causing Ryan to have to follow him. "Believe it or not, I had nothing to do with that. It was all Santana."

"But you're not denying the choreographer part," Ryan pointed out.

"I said what I was thinking," Quinton answered. "I think you're just guilty about alienating Mr. Schuester that you are trying to pin the fault on me. I don't have a problem with him; I wouldn't have joined Acafellas if I did. If I was trying to destroy Glee, wouldn't I have gotten him to drop the club completely? You're still eligible to compete with him as our supervisor."

Quinton was silent for a moment before continuing. "You're thinking too much about this. Santana probably told Mercedes about Kurt liking her for shit and giggles. She's a sadistic bitch and probably did it because she was bored."

Ryan lunged forward and blocked Quinton's path. "I don't know why you're doing this. You like Glee Club, I could tell."

"I can sing and dance in my room," he retorted.

"You like me," Ryan continued.

"You're delusional."

"I'm just trying to help you, Quinton. What's so wrong with admitting it?" Ryan said in a more quiet tone. "I'm not like the Cheerios; I won't use this as blackmail."

"I don't like being vulnerable; no one does. It was a mistake to tell you all those things about me. I was drunk, anyway. We're not going to suddenly become boyfriends or even best friends. Just leave me alone, okay?"

And with that, Quinton pushed past the smaller boy. Ryan frowned as he watched the blonde's retreat. He still needed to figure out how to fix everything before it all fell apart.

* * *

><p>"How was school today, sweetie?" Quinton's mom asked from the other side of the table. Russell Fabray was absent that night, probably with his mistress, but neither of them mentioned it. Judy was all sweet smiles and comforting pats. Quinton was becoming used to her unusually mothering behavior as of late, but he was still suspicious.<p>

"I aced an English class. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have 4.0 this semester, and I'm thinking about signing up for some AP classes next year."

"I meant with your friends, sweetie, but that sounds great," Judy clapped her hands together. She gave him an expectant look.

"Glee Club and the Cheerios held a car wash to raise money for a choreographer. Mercedes threw a rock through Kurt Hummel's windshield because he rejected her. It was funny," Quinton said.

Judy frowned, "Girls nowadays have become so forward. If I boy didn't like us back we didn't kick up a fuss and just moved on. And that Kurt Hummel boy, he's gay, isn't he?"

Quinton stiffened in his seat, waiting for the inevitable rant that homosexuals were perverts that were ruining the world. He had heard it enough times from his father and he was sure that his mother had picked up on his beliefs. He hesitantly answered, "Yes, Kurt's gay."

"That's nice. You two are in Glee Club together, right?" Judy said with a sweet smile. Quinton was dumbstruck; where was the homophobic comment. He was unnerved by his mother's behavior and the strangely knowing look she was giving him. He chose to ignore it for now and freak out later.

"Not anymore. I quit and joined Mr. Schuester's a capella group. There was some big fight with him, and Ryan Berry, so he isn't our coach anymore. We're actually performing tonight at the PTA meeting."

If Judy Fabray was a less put together woman, she would have choked on her food. Instead she slowly swallowed and turned a shock look onto Quinton. She stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles from her clothing, "why didn't you tell me sooner, Quinton? Now I need to go change into something more presentable."

"You mean you want to see me perform?" Quinton asked, shocked.

"Why wouldn't I, darling. I'm sure you will be fantastic. I've never heard you sing but Frannie had the most amazing voice, and you were always so much better than her at everything," Judy commented. Sadly, the last thing was true, but only in his mother's eyes. It was obvious which child was the favorite of each parent. To Russell, Frannie could do no wrong.

Judy hurried off to her room, and Quinton was left to think over the remains of his dinner. Sure, his mother had attended his Cheerios performances, but she had never said anything to suggest she supported him joining Glee Club. In fact, his father had been so angry over it.

Quinton finished off his food and went to his room to change into the suit that was their costume. He called to his mother, "I'll take my car because I have to get there early. I'll see you there after the performance, alright?"

"Okay, darling!" Judy called from her room. Quinton once again shook his head in bewilderment and left his house. Ten minutes later he was standing in the backstage area with Finn, Mr. Schuester, Coach Tanaka, and Sandy Ryerson.

"Are we supposed to be wearing makeup?" he heard Finn ask his coach. Quinton just sat in his chair, silently freaking out. The song they had chosen was totally not appropriate for his mother to hear. This was going to be so embarrassing. Of all the performances, it had to be this one?

He peaked out to the audience, spying both his mother and Naomi in the audience. Naomi caught his eye and winked from her seat next to Ms. Hudson. Finn's mother looked suitably charmed by the sweet girl despite the Mohawk adorning her head. Quinton wondered how she always managed to get parents to love her so much.

Moments later Mr. Schuester was ushering him on stage to perform. Quinton had never been so embarrassed to be in the spotlight; having his mother watch him sing a solo in "I Wanna Sex You Up" was suitable mortifying.

He rushed off stage as soon as it was over. The parents in the audience clapped happily and went back to mingling with each other. Quinton was so busy trying to actually sink into the floor that he almost didn't notice Josh Groban enter the room.

This had to be a dream; reality could never be this surreal. He had to watch Josh Groban yell at Mr. Ryerson for sending him naked pictures and other equally creepy things. Quinton wasn't that surprised by his former teacher's behavior, but Mr. Schuester looked like he wanted to join him in sinking through the floor.

Naomi was the first to ambush Quinton after the performance. "Suitable sexy, Fabray. I'm impressed."

"I need a drink," he groaned. Naomi giggled and swatted at his arm. She answered, "If you can get away to my house, I have some wine coolers."

He nodded, turning his attention to his mother as she approached him, pleased to notice that Naomi had disappeared to talk to Finn. He narrowed his eyes, noticing that Judy had come from conversing with Ryan Berry's moms. He was getting more and more suspicious with her behavior, but he could not thinking of a reason for the life of him.

"Quinnie, not the song I expected to hear you singing, but I was right; you truly do have an amazing voice," Judy hugged him warmly. "I hope you invite me to some of your other performances."

"I'll be sure to tell you if anything comes up," he promised. "Finn invited me and a few of the other guys to his house for a video game marathon. Do you mind if I come back late?"

"That sounds fine, dear," she said. "I'm thinking of going home early. I've had a very exciting day, and I'm already tired. You have fun."

"Love you, mom," he was cautious with saying this, but it caused a huge smile to bloom on her face. His mother hugged him one last time before leaving for the parking lot. Quinton sighed and looked for Naomi, who was grinning at him from the entrance. He was hoping she had something stronger than wine coolers.

It turned out, Naomi did have something stronger. Quinton stewed angrily on her bed as Naomi ranted about how amazing Mario Kart was. She occasionally paused, nodding at something she had thought. He had no idea whether it had anything to do with the video game, but apparently she thought it was genius.

"And, like, why is she suddenly acting like a mom now? She keeps hugging me and calling me pet names," Quinton slurred. "It's fucking weird!"

"My mom likes insulting me," Naomi said.

"So does my dad! We have so much in common, Naomi. I think I love you," Quinton had no idea what was coming out of his mouth. "You're like, my best friend. I hate Santana because she's an opportunistic bitch. Dammit, I used to be an opportunistic bitch too. What happened to me?"

"I don't know," Naomi said slowly. "But if you love me, I think we should have sex."

That seemed like an amazing idea to figure out whether he was gay or not. Who better to lose his virginity to than his best friend? "Sure."

Naomi squealed in excitement and jumped on top of his lap. Kissing her was nice, because she tasted like strawberry lip gloss. Ryan wore strawberry lip balm and it always made his lips look really red. Everything was a blur as Naomi laid him down on the bed and began undressing the both of them. Maybe he should have done more to help her.

He ran his hands up and down her sides, noting the pleasured sigh she gave above him. That meant he was doing this right; that's why people moaned during sex. He wondered in Ryan was loud during sex like he was loud during everything else. He thrust his erection up at the thought of the small brunette boy beneath him.

Naomi moaned in surprise as Quinton switched their positions and pressed the girl into the mattress. With his eyes closed and Ryan on his mind, he was ten times more enthusiastic as he pleasured her. Naomi's eyes rolled back into her head as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

As Quinton thrust into her, all thoughts of condoms had left both of their minds. It wasn't exactly the best sex ever, with both of them being drunk and Quinton being a virgin, but Naomi was enjoying it enough. That is, until Quinton finally came.

"Ryan," he moaned on in pleasure. Naomi froze beneath him, and even through the drunk haze in his brain, Quinton realized what he had just revealed.

"So you really are gay," Naomi said dryly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If you're into Brittana, check out my other stories "Bubbles" and "Short Skirt, Long Jacket."**

****Next Chapter: ****_"I'm honestly sick of Ryan always whining and moaning about you. Please stop jerking him around or I'll fill your gas tank with cement. I can totally do it; my dad is a mechanic."_

_"What am I supposed to do, perform a rousing rendition of 'I'm Coming Out' for the club?"_

_"As much as I love Dianna Ross, no."_

****Reviews make me update faster!****


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